Mortal Kombat II: Shades of Discontent
by northstarpolaris
Summary: Raiden seeks atonement as he leads a new crop of Earth warriors against Shao Kahn's forces. Can they hope to defeat Kahn's secret weapon: the brainwashed Johnny Cage? Warning: M/M. No flames!
1. Chapter 1: Rendezvous

Chapter One

_This isn't the way it was supposed to be._

Raiden hovered—his legs crossed, his arms folded, his head bowed—cloaked only in shadow. His lips curled into a scowl. Every few moments, his eyebrow twitched uneasily. His meditation, his focus had suffered drastically since the Mortal Kombat tournament. Raiden had been sent as a divine instructor to the three chosen Earth warriors: Liu Kang, an accomplished Shaolin monk, Johnny Cage, an action film star, and Sonya Blade, a lieutenant in the armed forces. Within these three warriors dwelled Earth's only hope…and it was Raiden's job to help them realize their destinies.

_I achieved all that they expected of me… didn't I?_

Although Liu had managed to defeat the unholy sorcerer Shang Tsung, putting an end to the tournament, the three warriors had endured horrors along the way that deeply scarred their psyches. The journey back to Earth had been fraught with its own terrors; Sonya had been lost in the fray. Raiden commanded the warriors to leave her behind for the sake of their own safety. Liu Kang, quieted by this experience, returned to the silence of his temple to train with the other Shaolin monks. Johnny slipped into a deep depression, briefly retiring from the limelight; when he realized this only provided more time in which to dwell on thoughts of the past—and of Sonya—he returned, but half-heartedly. And Raiden had been secretly watching it all.

_Did I fail in doing my duty? Sonya…_

"Raiden."

A deep voice jarred Raiden from his trance. His eyes opened immediately and he struggled to stay afloat. He let his arms drop to his sides and extended his feet downward so that he hovered as if standing. Exhaling anxiously, he craned his neck to look over his shoulders.

The Temple of the Gods hung in the clouds, invisible to the human eye. The marble floors gently reflected the clouds, visible through the glass walls. Every now and then, the sun shone through the glass, illuminating the intricate carvings of the Shinto gods that adorned the golden ceiling.

A tall and serious-looking man stood rigidly at the entrance of the room. His skin was dark and bronzed, but his eyes flashed cerulean and his long silvery hair, pulled into a braided ponytail, hung down to his knees. He wore nothing but a pair of revealing white briefs and golden wrist and ankle bracelets that flashed when he moved.

"Yes?"

"I come bearing regretful news."

Raiden scoffed and slowly turned himself around. He faced his visitor directly, folding his arms once more and furrowing his eyebrows. A tension surmounted, causing the visitor to look at his feet apprehensively. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but shook his head, unable to find the right words.

"Go on," Raiden commanded.

The visitor sneered at Raiden.

"A dark force has been detected on Earth."

Raiden lowered himself to the floor. His feet softly touched the cold marble floor, sending a shiver up his legs. He moved them, adjusting his stance so that his member was more modestly hidden from his visitor's view. The visitor awkwardly looked away from Raiden, recognizing his desire for privacy.

"What brand of dark force, exactly?"

"The pattern of energies emanating from this being suggest to us that it may, in fact, be the demon sorcerer."

"What?!"

"Only a collection of souls would exude signatures like that."

"Perhaps."

A brief silence followed, as Raiden scratched his chin, lost in thought.

"I suppose the question now is: why have you come to inform me of this?"

The visitor appeared puzzled. He titled his head to one side, narrowing his eyes at the thunder god who stood before him. He frowned. Taking a deep breath, he marched towards Raiden, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders and turning him so that they stood face to face. Raiden was more aware of his nakedness than before and felt entirely too vulnerable for a being of his nature, especially knowing what his visitor was about to say.

"Raiden, you must once again lead the Earth warriors into Mortal Kombat."

Raiden glanced across the room at the glass wall stretching from the floor to the ceiling, behind which clouds were passing at an alarmingly fast rate. The sky, however, maintained a healthy blue color and beams of sunlight penetrated the glass.

"I have done so before."

"Successfully. Which is why you must do so again."

"Successfully?"

Raiden pushed the visitor away. The visitor tripped over his footing but caught himself before hitting the ground. He disjointedly stood back up, brushing his ponytail back over his shoulders. He rubbed his forehead, frustrated with Raiden's stubbornness.

"Raiden."

The visitor advanced toward Raiden briskly, placing his right hand open-palmed against the small of Raiden's back and drawing him close, so that their faces were only inches apart. He pressed his left hand against Raiden's cheek and held his head still so that they could see one another eyee to eye. Raiden felt the warmth radiating from the visitor's chest. The hefty, rounded bulge in the visitor's briefs hung precariously close to Raiden's genitals. Raiden let out a small gasp as he tried to reclaim the general evenness he exuded.

"Raiden. We have been comrades for ages. I know how you feel. I know the state you have been in. But this—this is something you must do. You must."

The visitor pushed Raiden away and turned on his heel. He began to leave the room, but paused just at the door and turned his head slightly.

"If it helps," he said, "think of this as an opportunity."

"An opportunity?" Raiden asked. "For what?"

"For atonement."

The visitor stood perfectly still, awaiting a reply.

"I will do all that is expected of me," Raiden quietly responded. "But I will do it… as a mortal."

The visitor spun around, a look of shock on his face.

"I can no longer find it in me to ask others to risk their lives for our own benefit—when my own is not at stake."


	2. Chapter 2: Femme Fatale

Chapter Two

Johnny Cage let out a moan of pleasure as the piping hot water beat against his back. He could already sense his muscles relaxing; after filming an especially difficult battle sequence the entire afternoon, this was exactly what he needed. He could barely see for the steam filling the shower. He pressed his hands against tiled wall, careful not to slip, and rested himself.

He hung his head and gently closed his eyes. He wanted to forget it all, just for a moment. He had become more successful at this task—at least more so than when he first returned to Earth. All he had thought about was Sonya. In the restless evenings he would shift uncomfortably in his bed, kicking off the blankets and sheets, an unbearable heat consuming his body and sweat dripping from his skin. In the few hours he managed to sleep during those nights, he would inevitably dream of her—and it was always the same.

As the three hid behind a rock, Johnny noticed Sonya suddenly became rigid. Her eyes set on her feet; she seemed to be thinking intently about something. In a split second, she was gone, catapulting herself over the rock and screaming at Liu Kang and him to run. A burst of pink light temporarily blinded them, and soon they heard Raiden's voice booming, urging them onward.

Johnny pulled his bangs out of his face and brushed back his hair. He shook his head vigorously, trying to shake loose any water so that it didn't drip down into his eyes. Taking a bar of soap from the ledge, he worked up a thick lather and began applying it all over his torso. As the shower water washed the suds from his chest, Johnny admired the fine glint of his pectoral muscles. He had been exercising tooth and nail to pump his physique to its peak—anything to take his mind off of his troubles. He quickly began spreading the lather across his pelvis, working it deeper into his skin with his hands. The massaging enticed him, and he soon found his hands venturing lower and lower… It was then that he heard a noise—a small knocking. It started very softly. At first Johnny thought it must have been the dryer in the laundry room, but he remembered that he had already heard it buzz.

Johnny opened the shower door and stuck his head out.

_Knock, knock._

"Someone at the door?" he whispered to himself.

_Knock, knock._

"Just a second!"

Johnny wasn't quite sure whether he had sounded too gruff and annoyed with his reply, but he didn't really care. He had looked forward to an evening of unwinding and was not intent on playing the gracious host to whatever unfortunate soul had found the audacity to knock at his door this late at night. Whoever it was, he or she had shaken him from his relaxation time and now he felt anything but relaxed.

He stepped out, sopping water onto a floor mat below. He toweled himself dry, tossing the thing into the hamper and procuring a pair of briefs from the dresser near the door of his bedroom. He quickly shoved one leg through and then the next, pulling them up, straightening them, and brusquely tucking himself inside.

The knocking grew louder and Johnny decided that if whoever it was had such a desperate need to see him, that he or she should not be surprised to see him in this attire. He had no desire to get dressed completely and his sense of hospitality faded with every pounding noise he heard. He stomped over to the door, unlocked it, and flung it open.

A woman appeared before him, both entirely familiar and unfamiliar in her countenance. Her long, crimson hair hung in curls on her shoulders. Sparkling emerald eyes were hidden behind long eyelashes. She inched toward him, shifting herself so that her cleavage, no doubt improved by the miniature black dress hugging her body, was placed directly in Johnny's view. She extended her left arm; clutched in it was a bottle of expensive wine.

Johnny stammered a salutation.

"Johnny," the woman cooed, a devilish grin on her face, "do you not remember me?"

He stepped back, pulling the door open fully, and gestured for her to come inside. He truly had no memory of this woman, but the familiarity he felt gave him enough cause to allow her entry. As she entered, he closed the door behind her and locked it.

"I'm disappointed," she said, lowering her hands in front of her and playfully swinging the bottle from side to side.

"I'm sorry," Johnny said quietly. "I meet so many people in a week… I can't… I just can't remember."  
"You promised me a date," she said slyly, turning around to examine Johnny's penthouse apartment. "I've come to collect."

Johnny grunted in disbelief. "Was I drunk?" he asked, arching an eyebrow and scratching his chin.

"Ouch!" his guest scoffed, spinning around to leer at him.

"That's not what I meant," Johnny said, waving his hands awkwardly. "I just honestly cannot…"

"My name is Eve," the woman replied, "and that's all you need to know for now."

She strode toward Johnny, gently setting the bottle of wine on a nearby counter. As she drew closer, she pulled her arms up and over, resting them gently on his broad shoulders. She drew her face closer to his until their lips nearly touched. Johnny, despite his shock at the recent turn of events, did not possess the strength to resist her charms.

"I'm going to be blunt," she said, almost in a whisper. "I've come here for one thing… and I believe you're the right person for the job, being that we're so alike. Look at it this way: we'll have a fun night together, you'll have a great night's sleep, and in the morning I won't be here for you to deal with… but you will have a nice bottle of wine, which you hopefully will have earned."

"I…"

Before Johnny could respond, his lips were entangled with Eve's. She wrapped her arms around him, turning him about until he pushed her against the wall. She dug her fingernails into his back and he let out a roar of delight. Using his shoulders as leverage, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around Johnny's waist, gracefully kicking off her stilettos. Johnny carried her through the hall and to his bedroom, where he threw her on the bed. As Johnny jumped into bed, Eve rolled aside and quickly pinned him against the mattress. With one hand pressed firmly against his already sweaty chest, she rubbed the growing bulge in his briefs with the other. As Johnny let out a loud moan of anticipation, Eve pulled the briefs down slightly, enough to free his throbbing member but also enough to allow for his own preserved dignity once the escapade was over. Eve violently snatched his penis in her hands, squeezing it tightly. She looked at its deep purple coloring, its glans glistening with sweat; it was not as large as she had at first expected, but she remembered that Johnny was only a man, after all.

Eve quickly sat up and reached underneath her dress, pulling off her lingerie and kicking it to the floor. Without any further words, she climbed on top of Johnny and let him enter her. His member swelled even more until he had to bite his lip to keep from bursting. He continued thrusting himself deeper inside of her, although he lessened his speed and vigorousness in order to prolong the satisfaction.

Despite the pleasure of the experience, Johnny could not help but wonder how he knew Eve. His eyes scanned her face, searching for some clue. He felt it at the back of his mind, just waiting to be discovered. He moaned one last time as he climaxed and ejaculated inside of her. In that moment he knew—he had seen her during the Mortal Kombat tournament. He had assumed she was one of the fighters.

Johnny quickly became aware that something strange was happening. Something seemed to be pressing against his penis. Her vagina was growing tighter and tighter, milking what little semen remained out of Johnny. He grunted, half in pleasure, half in confusion. He opened his eyes to glance up at Eve. Her silhouette seemed to shift in the darkness. Johnny felt her body's weight growing heavier and heavier, until finally he was held firmly in place. Her waist widened, her legs and arms thickened, and her breasts tightened into pectoral muscles. Her body became covered with a thick layer of hair. Johnny felt something touch his abs. He instantly recognized it as male genitalia. A large, masculine hand reached down and clutched Johnny's neck.

Johnny, still exhausted from the sexual encounter, let out a gasp and grabbed at the hand with his own. Despite his struggling, he was unable to free himself. The shadowy figure drew Johnny towards him. Johnny looked into the face of a man he seemed to know. This man's eyes glowed fiercely in the dark, and he growled through clenched teeth. Dark hair fell in front of his face. As he pressed his face against Johnny's, Johnny felt the scratchiness of his beard.

He whispered into Johnny's ear, "I have come for your soul."

"Who are you?" Johnny wheezed, still trying to free himself from his attacker's clutch.

"You don't recognize me?" the stranger sneered with a sinister laugh. "Why, it is I—Shang Tsung."

Johnny did not have a moment to respond. Shang quickly pressed each of his hands on either side of Johnny's head and snapped his neck. He immediately let go, and Johnny's body collapsed, rolling onto the floor. Shang examined the body of his most recent victim, still glistening with sweat from their encounter.

"By the way, Cage," Shang muttered. "It wasn't good for me."

He extended a fist towards the body and then opened his fingers. The body began to emanate an eerie green light. The glow increased with each moment and began pooling around Shang's hand. The demon sorcerer lifted his hand into the air, examining this newly stolen life force by the light of the moon.

"Your soul is mine."


End file.
